Exacting Vengeance
by SkylartheGrey
Summary: A/U: First Contact has yet to end. Cerberus has kidnapped biotics for experimentation as they began to surface for the first time in human history. Shepard, after escaping from a lab with the aid of a turian, discovers something strange... something that might have to do with the war. What is Cerberus up to? RATED M FOR DESCRIPTIVE GORE AND FUTURE CHAPTERS. Eventual Shakarian...
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**: After lurking for many years, I decided to post my first fanfiction! Please let me know what you think, any grammar mistakes or anything I can do better in the future!

Her hands trembled violently. Her bottom lip quivered nervously. After a feverish scan of the hallway, her eyes stared, disbelieving, at the shaking appendages she could hardly identify as her own. The trademark fetters that constantly adorned her wrists and held her captive fell to the floor with a soft metallic clink, pooling at her feet, abandoned. A choked noise threatened to escape from her throat and she was forced to clamp a hand over her gaping mouth.

Numbers could not count the amount of times she had dreamt of this day. Her reveries however, always promised more security personnel, a greater sense of satisfaction as she roguishly slipped through the cracks while the guards shook their fists at her in aggravation. Instead, she stood alone, in the dimly lit hallway, accompanied only by the unlocked shackles and the corpse who bled out barely a foot away from her. The sickeningly thick, metallic scent overwhelmed her and her knees buckled. She fell into a squat beside the body, burying her thin hands into her vibrant red hair. The choked noise managed to slip through her parted lips.

This had not been planned. She did not wake up and decide she would do this. It happened. It happened, and she did not regret a moment of it. Her anxiety was not at all related to any emotion similar to remorse. It was the dam being broken with the realization of her newfound emancipation. She was free and the two symbols of her enthrallment laid abandoned at her feet.

It had all began during the routine escort back to her cell from the labs. While the "patients" were never permitted to be free from their cells without supervision, many trips from the lab required the entourage for more than just surveillance. Numbers could not count the amount of times that she was slung over one of the burly guard's shoulders because her legs simply would not withstand the weight her body bore upon them, thanks to whatever experiments the Men in White decided to perform. Today, however, she had been in luck. No shocks were administered, nor were any tests performed, they only requested a few blood samples, which she was only too eager to supply in lieu of anything else they had planned.

The day had been incredibly unremarkable, that is, until the humming began. At its start, the humming was so faint, one could dismiss it as nothing more than a random noise from one of the other cells, but then, oh so gradually, it increased in volume, causing the guards to pause in their tracks momentarily. They turned down the hall, to her block and the humming that had emerged earlier had evolved into a dull roar, causing the walls to tremble. One guard muttered under his breath that he would go investigate and scurried off to scour the facility for the noise and its enigmatic source. The other guard prompted her to continue onward by pressing the cold metal muzzle of his M9 into her back.

It was all routine, until they reached her cell. The guard absentmindedly reached for the keys to her cell, as though he heard nothing. It was then that it happened.

Time slowed down for her. Reflecting upon the incident, she could only recall the moments as warped Polaroids stapled to the inside of her head.

_ BANG!_The explosion detonated somewhere in the facility, the earsplitting volume of the blowout so deafening, it even caused the stoic guard to jump out of fright. After that, a few seconds passed as she was struck dumb, forced to hear the agonizing shrieks of bloodcurdling pain in the distance. Then, her mind, at light speed, attempted to process her what could have possibly detonated. Upon rationalizing it, she deduced only one source: a riot.

If this… if it… If the detonation was part of a riot, that meant…. that meant that she had a chance to escape this Hell. If this was a revolt, she would no longer be this corporation's guinea pig. If the other patients managed to organize something for the very first time in the history of this facility, that would mean… yes, this was her only chance. If she squandered this opportunity, she would never have another chance. Her freedom laid on the other side of the man who stood before her, still dumbfounded by the blast.

Lightning fast, she spun, finishing the movement with her foot smashing into the guard's abdomen, his firearm flying from his grip and skidded down the hall, towards the area where the explosion went off. He turned to face her with his face contorted with beastial rage. Instincts kicking in, she reacted without hesitation. Her head drew back, only to come slamming into his nose with a sickening crunch! The agony that radiated from her forehead sent her world spinning, but the tantalizing allure of freedom seduced her into enduring the pain. She refused to accept defeat because of it.

He cried out, doubling over. She took the momentary distraction as an opportunity to snake about him and hustle awkwardly towards the pistol with her handcuffs and garrets clinking erratically. When he realized what she was doing, it was too late. Her fingers curled around the weapon's handle and she spun on her heel, but that did not stop him.

With a feral snarl, he started towards her. His mouth hung wide as he issued an inhuman guttural noise, the whole thing rather humorous considering her antics painted a lopsided, bloody mustache on his face. He stampeded down the hallway, arms stretched towards her to grab her. She had to give it to him, he was quicker than his massive frame suggested, but, her finger squeezed off a shot before he could reach her.

It was her first time ever holding a gun, let alone pulling the trigger. The recoil surprised her and her chained hands (along with the gun) almost whacked her in the face. It did the trick just fine though. Blood blossomed across his sterile white uniform, the left portion of his abdomen painted a vibrant scarlet. He wailed in agony as his fingers felt along the wound, only to be coated with a thick, sticky layer of his own blood. With a determined gleam in her eye, she approached the man she hated for as long as she could remember, and her memory was flooded with different moments of his abuse. He was too preoccupied with the first shot to notice her.

At point blank, she pulled the trigger once more. Bits of flesh and bone exploded at the base of his skull, spraying the walls with a striking red mess. The body lurched forward and screamed no more. Bits of blood and gore glazed her already dirtied cloths. She bent at the waist to fish his keys from his pocket and after much fumbling, managed to undo the clasps at her wrists. For a moment she simply stared at the bloody sight before her, watching as the blood spread slowly from the body.

It was then that the trembling began. She realized what she had done. She finally did it. The first step down the road to freedom

She stayed immobilized in her squat alongside the body for what felt like a century, the scene repeating over and over in her head. It was not until a particularly most unpleasant shriek shook her from her trance-like state. She could not stay here, she must help the others, she must provide them an opportunity to liberate themselves as she had been provided.

She pushed herself off of the floor, grabbing the gun that sat waiting for her and made her way down the hall, fully prepared to turn herself into a human weapon. Given a chance to at long last escape seemed so surreal, as though this was all a dream: it was simply too good to be true. As she cautiously ambled towards the main hall, which is where she surmised the explosion to have occurred, her mind grew filled with the different scenarios she expected to encounter when she reached her destination. From the sounds being procured, it was obvious that none would be pleasant, all would be as equally bloody as her incident in the hallway.

She rounded the corner, and, out of anticipation to reach the Main Hall, jogged her way to close the distance as swiftly as possible. Free from the shackles, her biotics began to flow from her fingertips, she felt the familiar warmth of the biotic power trickling up her arm and flowing freely across her back, lighting her up like an ornament. They shackled her not only her physical movement with those damned handcuffs, but her biotics, and now she was prepared to exact vengeance threefold. A sadistic smile twisted upon her lips as she continued to imagine what she would do to those foul, pathetic excuses of human beings. For what they did to her. For what they did to them: the other biotics.

Every scar and scratch along her body from their experiments itched with anticipation. She now stood at the heavy doors that barred her from the Main Hall. The symphony of battle warred just on the other side of metal barrier. She paused, her heart pumping, her breathing hitched. From behind, the whirr of the air conditioner lifted her hair from her shoulders, causing it to float ethereally about her. Alongside her glowing frame, the hovering strands of hair made her appear unreal, every bit of the threat and boon that the Illusive Man deemed her to be.

She kicked the door down, the biotics adding the extra _oompf_ and she barreled through like an animal on the hunt, but… as she surveyed the area, she gasped.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **WOW! Thank you for the reviews, everyone! I must admit that when I first uploaded my story, I was a bit nervous, but the reviews made me really happy. I couldn't help but smile while reading them.

As for the story: I apologize for the constant time jumping and having my main character 'reflecting' a lot. I have a lot of stuff I want to convey, but I don't want to bog the pace of the story down with too much exposition, y'know? Heads up: things are going to be a bit confusing, but I plan on having all the pieces come together slowly. Also, gore.

EDIT: I decided to tone down some of the gorier scenes a bit, and I realized I needed to fix the grammar in some areas.

* * *

"Well, what happened next?" Her interrogator asked, his question more of a demand than anything else. Her head fall back and her cheeks puffed outwards as she let out a stream of air from her lips. He was infuriating. Smug bastard of a turian.

"Like I told you before," She responded sharply, "If you stop interrupting, I'll tell you."

"I will stop "interrupting" when you stop stalling." Her eyes narrowed.

"I'm not stalling."

"You are."

"Look, I know from your high horse, I may seem like some punk, but give me some slack. These past couple of days have been difficult, my whole world's been turned inside out and upside down."

"Well, what happened next?"

"You _know_ what happened next. The place got overrun, some stuff went down, time passed, and then some more things went down, and now I am here, with you, having this _lovely_ conversation."

"Stop stalling."

"Has anyone ever told you that your people skills are simply brilliant?"

"_Stop stalling_," a veiled threat sat behind his words, promising pain if she did not comply.

She sighed, her eyes glanced down to her lap. She could not allow herself to acknowledge the glee in his eyes when she continued her tale. She wished what occurred never happened, she wished she did not do what she did, but most of all, she wished she did not have to admit it to_ him_.

"Alright, alright. Look, I got scared, okay? I was ready to raise hell and give the guards what they had coming to them. I was. I wanted to save the others," Her eyes rose defiantly to meet his before returning back to her hands, "I wasn't ready for what was there. If I could have done anything for the others, I would have risked my life for them, but they weren't... ahem… I mean, it wasn't what I expected. I got shot at, got scared and ran away… hid in an air conditioning vent."

She could almost taste the aura of smugness that radiated across from her.

He chuckled, "So, you are just a coward who got lucky."

She slammed her fists against the table as loudly as the constraints would allow.

"I am _not_ a coward!"

* * *

_I am such a coward_, she thought with bitter distaste as she slammed her head back against the metal piping. She was curled up uncomfortably in an air conditioning vent. Outside, to her right, the symphony of battle continued, as though mocking her cowardice with every shell spent and every scream emitted. Sitting in the damned duct, her two moral halves quarreled with one another. The renegade that hijacked her senses in the hallway, demanded she kick down the air conditioner's grate and rejoin the battle, gun and biotics blazing. The other part of her debated that what was in the Main Hall was not her problem, why would should she risk her life for a nameless banner?

She slammed her head against the metal duct once more, than closed her eyes. She recalled the moment that she burst through those doors vividly. She recalled gasping as she took in what awaited her on the other side.

There was no _riot_.

There was no _revolt_.

This was a _slaughter_.

She had been wrong. Oh, had she been wrong! What had caused the explosion was not some sort of biotic revolution hell bent overthrowing the oppressive hand of the Illusive Man's henchmen. In fact, the only biotics that she was able to spot were contorted in various grotesque positions. Their eyes were flung wide open, but their glazed stares revealed that they saw no more. Their chests nursed gaping wounds and a pool of blood surrounded their corpses. Many others had been cleaved in two. She swallowed the bile that was rising into her throat when she saw what seemed to be a woman's hand, dismembered at the wrist, laying casually near her feet. As she continued to gawk, she began to distinguish more and more dismantled limbs, the bones and ligaments reflecting dully in the Main Hall's light.

Unable to cope with the gruesome sight, she felt the room grow hot, her pulse elevated high she could feel each beat throughout her body and the screams and gunshots grew muffled. She stumbled and grasped the door frame in order to keep herself erect, but she had seen too much. She added to the floor's mess by emptying the contents of her stomach.

After she was finished, she wiped her lips on her sleeve and returned her attention to the Main Hall. It was brimming with heavy smoke, with ash so thick, it fluttered about the room like snow. A large chunk of the ceiling and wall to her right had collapsed, dropping vehicle-sized chunks of brick and foundation upon the floor, effectively creating an eerie obstacle course. The makeshift jungle gym was aided in part by half-charred cafeteria tables that had once taken up the entire Main Hall's floor.

The damage was not the most shocking part, however. She expected to see violence, sure, but not to the extreme it had gone to. Instead of seeing her fellow "patients" creating vacuums with mass effect fields and sending the guards flying while dodging bullets, she watched as aliens in thick armor clambered over the rubble, rifles and submachine guns wielded confidently in their hands. Though she had never before seen aliens in her entire life, she noted the prominent carapaces and strange fringes and swiftly identified them as turian. For what reason they were invading the facility, she had not the slightest clue, though that said very little. She did not know what occurred outside the laboratory. No biotic did. For the patients, the only world that existed was the one within the confines of the oppressive walls.

Stepping around the mess she had just made, she crept behind a column that had miraculously withstood the explosion. From there, she leaned outwards to watch the battle occurring over at the distal end of the hall.

The turians were coming through the leveled wall with overwhelming numbers, mowing down all of the resistance they came across. The human guards met the foreign forces from behind upturned tables, their armor and shields held up surprisingly well despite being under constant fire.

_No wonder no one made it_, she thought grimly,_ nothing but the clothes on their back to protect them from the blast and the ceiling's collapse_. Her eyes traveled to the civilians that were sprawled unharmed near the center of Hall. _No oxygen masks to ensure that they did not choke from the heavy debris_. She glanced back up at the turians who methodically were whittling away the human force. _Those that survived the blast and the debris would have tried to run away, but their handcuffs would have made it difficult. They were slaughtered by the turians._

She cursed and the world began to grow hot again. A knot formed in her chest, making it difficult to breath. It would have been mealtime, these poor souls would never had suspected a thing. What did freedom mean if it came at the cost of all of these lives? She wracked her brain, attempting to solve the seemingly impossible riddle that was: _what now?_ The turians appeared to mow down any human they spotted. If she allied herself with the guards she had little illusion that they would let her walk free once the battle was won...

Her indecision was punctured with the crack of a gun. Someone had spotted her, sending several bullets to whiz by her head, which she acknowledged with an undignified yelp and stumbled backwards. Her foot found its way onto a puddle of blood and she fell onto the floor with a thud. The blood seeped in between her fingers, coating her hands with a warm, viscous, candy-apple red residue. From the fray, she spotted her other guard, the one who had excused himself earlier, as he disentangled himself and start towards her.

Knowing she would not have enough time to jump to her feet, she remained firmly on the floor and raised a dirtied hand, allowing her biotics to do the rest. He dangled weightlessly above the ground, caught in the mass effect field, for just a moment before being flung like a rag doll into the turian territory, where he did not last very long before their guns turned on him.

She scrambled to her feet and exited the Main Hall, tail firmly tucked between her legs. She skidded to a halt knowing that if she were to take a right, she would be heading back to her block, where her cell was, and ultimately, a dead end. To her left, a wall, which was not much help either. Frantically her eyes glanced about for anything that could improve her chances of survival.

It was then that they fell onto the air conditioning grate. She bit her lip and sent a wave of energy into the grate, watching it collapse with a soft _clack_ inside the air duct. She then placed her fingers on the vent's ledge and used the momentum from a small jump to hoist herself up and inside the metal tunnel. After awkwardly fumbling inside the cramped space she managed to right herself. She used her shirt to wipe down the bloody hand prints she had left and replaced the grate to make it appear as though it was undisturbed.

She allowed herself a moment. She took in a deep breath. Her heart continued to pound in her chest and it was there that she sat, safe, but hassled by a guilty conscious.

_I am such a coward_, she thought once more. She opened her eyes and stared at the hands that were slathered with innocent blood. The symbolism was not lost on her. She let out a soft cry, recalling all the bodies she saw. All the innocent lives lost. That _could_ have been her. That _should_ have been her. Had it not been for her checkup at the labs, it _would_ have been her. Never before had she been so ashamed. _My first breaths of freedom and I spend it sitting inside an air vent, _she thought with revulsion.

Her head perked up when she heard multiple, heavy clanks approaching. She shifted her position so that she could see through the grate's metal grid and watched as an assault trooper stampeded into the corridor. He stared momentarily down the hall before raising a heavily plated hand to his helmet, leaning in to activate his radio. He pressed himself against the wall underneath her.

"We are taking heavy fire, requesting immediate backup!" he announced into his radio, there was a pause, "The first strike by the turians proved to have 100% mortality rate for the biotics, sir." Another pause. "Already sent word, evacuating any remaining cells with biotics in them. Planning on locking down facility… Sir?" Another pause, "One biotic was seen outside the Main Hall, she must have killed her guard... But the turians!- err- anything you say. I will personally go and try to find her now." The assault trooper ambled off, down the hall.

Once he was out of earshot, she turned and began to crawl down the tunnel, her head stooped uncomfortably to accommodate the limited space. She mentally attempted to map out the possible areas that the vent could go, but got lost after a few too many turns. By the time she found another grate, her wrists began to voice their discomfort and the entire ordeal left her hot and sweaty. She peered at the room through the grate. Dark, quiet, vacant, _perfect_.

She leaned back and kicked at the grate until it clattered to the floor with a resounding smack. She lowered her legs to the edge and then followed suit, landing gracefully onto the balls of her feet. She peered about the room, it appeared to be an office of some sorts, but whoever owned it obviously left in a rush. Only one light in the corner illuminated the room and she spotted a single computer that remained on.

Curious, she leaned over the desk to read what was on the computer. She recognized a picture on the screen as a fellow biotic, one she recognized from the Main Hall. Below the biotic's image, were various charts and notes that she could not decipher. Intrigued, she tugged at her sleeve to expose her bicep. On it, a string of characters that had been burned into her flesh for as long as she could remember, were revealed. Not actually knowing just quite how to work the device, she fumbled about until she got to the search bar in the corner and the little icon appeared. Once there, she typed the characters she had on her arm into the search bar. _S-003, _she punched in, but before the results came up, the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end.

She heard a shuffle d turned, but it seemed luck was not on her side today.

She could practically kiss the gun that was now pointed at her face, "No sudden movements. Slowly, place your hands on top of your head."


	3. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTES: **First and foremost, thank you everyone who views and reviews my tale! It means so much! I want to formally thank one reviewer in particular, Mordinette, for pointing out some problems in my story and actually causing me to think of some new things for the upcoming chapters. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

On a side note, for those who celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you enjoyed your holiday. I had quite the holiday break! I went to see Trans-Siberian Orchestra, and they were simply fantastic, if anyone ever gets the chance to see them, I highly suggest it. Curious, how was everyone else's holidays?

LAST BUT NOT LEAST, these upcoming weeks are going to be a bit hectic, so I am unsure as to how often I will be updating. I have an SAT on Dec 7, ACT on Dec 14, Midterms on the 16, and college essays squeezed in between, so my apologies in advanced if I am gone for a while... Oh, senior year!

UPDATE: I decided to change the summary. This project has changed and grown exponentially since when I first started drafting. I decided to change the summary accordingly...

* * *

"No sudden movements. Slowly, place your hands on top of your head"

Despite the advancements in technology, her translator could not filter out the growl that permeated the turian's threatening words. Predatory. Which was a perfect word to describe such a being. From his intimidating six foot frame, to the pointed teeth that loomed behind blue-striped mandibles, to the icy blue eyes that glared down at her, everything about the alien screamed "predator".

His cunning eyes watched her. Her nervousness was revealed with every tick in her neck as her heart pumped adrenaline-laced blood throughout her body. She wondered what she could do to get herself out of the predicament. As the gun continued to be pressed against her face, she knew that her options were slim, and she could not shake the thought that this alien was different from his brethren, somehow more intuitive. _Probably because he chose to ask first, and shoot later_, she rationalized. An idea sprouted and she knew the likeliness of its success were slim, but when staring down the wrong side of the gun, any idea seems plausible._ His mistake._

She reacted,_ violently_. She lashed out. Her biotic punch sending him flying backwards with a soft blue mist that curled around her arms. She watched as he crashed against the opposite wall, his armor cracking from the force. She had the good sense to throw up a biotic shield right before he pulled the trigger and sent multiple bullets her way. With a pompous smile, she watched as the bullets seemed to disintegrate as they made impact with the azure shield. Never turning her attention from him, she slowly backed her way to the door on her left.

When she felt the cold metal of the door flushed against her back, she elbowed the button. An error message buzzed. She chanced a glance over shoulder and saw that it was locked, the normally green ring, now a vibrant red._ Stop light red. Blood red. She was dead, red_.

_They locked down the facility_, she reminded herself sullenly.

A punch knocked her to the floor. Her shield burst with a soft sigh. The turian had apparently realized that none of his shots were going to penetrate her impressive shield and took advantage of her distraction as she repeatedly struck the locked door with her elbow. She stared up at him as he took aim. She kicked her leg out, and he crumbled on top of her, gun skidding out of his grip. His weight had knocked the wind out of her, and a scuffle ensued where the two wrestled for dominance.

He was on top of her, another blow landed against her face, a groan escaping her lips. She rolled over and knocked him underneath her, her fists striking what appeared to be the more delicate portions of his face. He rolled on to his stomach before rising to his hands and knees, her tiny frame riding on his back. He grabbed her hand (which had been fastened to his back) and she was thrown over his shoulder, back on to the floor. This cycle continued for what seemed like an eternity. That is, until the turian gained the upperhand, straddling her waist and pinning her hands to her hips with his knees.

There was a pregnant pause where the two sat huffing and puffing, attempting to catch their breath. She was in pain. She was in _so_ much pain, but she relished the fact that the militant turian appeared to be in the same shape as she. During the scuffle, a visor that had previously adorned his left eye and obscured it from view, had skidded to where her head now sat. Their chests heaved. Red and blue blood dripped. Emerald green human eyes bored into aquamarine blue turian eyes.

The red lock blinked green and opened. Standing in the doorway were three assault troopers. The two parties started at the sight of the other before one of the assault troopers raised a gloved hand to his radio.

"MISSING BIOTIC SPOTTED, WILL-" The assault trooper began but her desperate shrieks drowned his voice out.

"KILL THEM! KILL THEM! KILL THEM!" She pleaded to the turian, attempting to wriggle out of his hold.

Once more, she watched as time slowed down before her. As she screamed, the turian rolled off of her. The assault guards raised their guns and opened fire. With her hands released, she threw up another shield that engulfed herself and the turian, which prevented the duo from being mowed down by the incoming fire. Behind her, the turian had unearthed his assault rifle and shot one of the guards down with astounding marksmanship, the bullets punching through the armor like butter. The turian remained behind her shield to pick off the other two, whose demise followed cliche of the dropping of their weapons and falling to their knees before keeling over with a mild _thump_.

As the turian stepped closer to inspect his handiwork, the girl scooted until her back was against the wall to the right of the door. She tilted her head back, and pinched her nose, attempting to staunch the flow of blood that had been seeping out from the turian's punching. She had felt the warmth slide down her cheeks and over her lips, painting them a vibrant red. She could just feel the bruises that were going to blossom across her cheeks, every beat of her heart brought another wave of agony. With a groan, she closed her eyes.

The turian was to her left, in the doorway. He trotted over to her and squatted, bringing his face close to hers. It seemed like the interruption had quenched the fire between the two species. He cleared his throat and she opened an eye to look at him.

"The hell do you want?" She snapped, her voice was clipped and nasally, due to her thumb and forefinger pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Answers," he responded. When she opened her mouth to object, he raised a gloved hand, "We just saved each others lives. Had it not been for me, you wouldn't have had a prayer… Had it not been for that damned shield of yours, neither would I. So, amuse me."

She glared at him and took the moment of uneasy peace to inspect the alien next to her. In his hand, he fiddled with the visor that had fallen off of his face earlier, his three fingers twirling it over and over. Her gaze continued upwards, taking in the odd carapace that seemed to frame his upper chest and neck, before settling onto his face. His mandibles were cracked, and from the cuts, oozed deep blue blood. As he seemed to reciprocate her stare, she watched with mild intrigue as the mandibles fluttered.

"Where is the Prothean artifact?" He questioned softly.

"The what?" She responded, removing her hand from her nose so that she could lift her shirt and gingerly dab at the cuts that adorned her face. When she removed most of the sticky substance, she returned her fingers to the same position they had been in earlier on her nose. The turian pushed himself off of the ground and began to pace, bringing up an orange omni tool.

"The Prothean artifact, the one that _my_ people had just found on a newly settled colony? The very same artifact that _your_ people decimated an entire town to retrieve?" He growled vehemently, his omni tool pinging as it brought up a three-dimensional image of a planet with a blinking dot in one corner. "We received intel that the artifact that was stolen, along with those responsible, were here, so, where is it?" He demanded, his voice rising to a threatening pitch.

She furrowed her brows, "I've not the slightest clue what you're talking about. I'm just a patient here. I've never been outside this place. I don't even know what a Prothean is." He spun on his heel to face her.

"Don't lie to me, human, I know the artifact is here. My people are already searching the place up and down, they're going to find it eventually." He threatened.

Her brows furrowed once more and a fire was set aflame in her gut. She dropped her hand from her nose, balling it into a fist so tightly, her knuckles went white.

"Is that what this was all about?" Her voice was low, deadly. "So that's it? That's the big mystery's answer? Your people _blew up_ the Hall, _butchered_ innocent men and women, nearly _killed_ me as well, and started a shitstorm over an _artifact_?" She was livid, she could hear the rapid _thump-thump_ of her pulse in her ears, and her face began to flush a sanguine red. Her body began to tremble as reality sunk in.

All those innocent biotics who died! They died because the fools were looking for an artifact. An _artifact_. _An artifact_!

He cut the air with his hand, apparently the topic was touchy for the turian, too, "This isn't just about the artifact. _YOUR_ people massacred an entire _turian_ colony to get it! You kicked the anthill, and now you pay the consequences. This is _justice._" That was it. A laugh slipped passed her lips, and it had nothing to do with humor. She pushed herself to her knees before getting on to her feet. Her shaking legs threatened to collapse, so she leaned back against the wall to steady herself.

"Justice?" She questioned softly, "Let me tell you something about justice. _It doesn't exist_."

"I was one of the first patients to be kidnapped and taken here. They open us up, experiment, put glowing..._ things_ inside of us and throw us into cells when they're done. They check on us every now and again to see if their lab mice are still alive or to send us to the Main Hall to eat. They made this facility secret, you see, the Alliance could never find it. Meaning the bad guys never get caught and us biotics are thrown into the meat grinder."

"But a ray of hope came today. When I heard that explosion, it could have been angels singing for all I cared. I thought our prayers had been answered or something... that the galaxy had finally turned its blind eye on us, that justice had been served. I thought a revolt had taken place and we had the upperhand, that we all would at long last taste freedom. I killed my guard, then ran to the Hall." She squeezed her eyes tight and swallowed, "Only to see chaos. The only ones to actually be killed by your airstrike were the_ biotics,_ not the guards. I saw friends, people who suffered at my side for as long as we all can remember, dead. Innocent people, who could only be accused of dreaming to one day get away from this Hell- I saw them dismembered… eviscerated… beheaded. All of them… dead."

Her eyes began to burn with the threat of tears, before the droplets managed to slip through her lashes and trickle down her cheeks."_No innocent human survived_ and you're telling me this was over an artifact that we "stole"."

She straightened her head so that her eyes were piercing into his. Her expression was deadly, even with the wet trail that lined her tired face. With determination, she strode over to the alien that had been leaning against a desk, listening to her.

"Well, turian, I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that _justice_ has been served. I want you to remember what you walked passed to get here. I want you to remember, knowing that all of those corpses are there thanks to you, and that they were all _innocent_ of the crime you accused them of. Go ahead,_ look me in the eyes and tell me all about justice_, knowing that if anyone in the facility has that damned artifact, they're probably waiting for the evac to come as we speak." She demanded of him.

He stared at her blankly. As the silence continued, she grew frustrated. More tears managed to escape, but they no longer surfaced out of grief or pain. She cried out of irritation. She banged her bloodied fist against the desk on her right and it shivered in response.

"LOOK ME IN THE EYES, ALIEN!" She shrieked, "Tell me that what you saw there is_ justice!_ Tell me that you truly think you did the right thing! Tell me all of us humans deserve to die because someone who wasn't us killed your colony and stole your toy! Tell me that I deserved to see my friends' bloody corpses! Tell me I deserve to live, plagued with the guilt that I SHOULD have been one of them!" She was screaming now, and her voice cracked with every word.

He stared blankly at her. She could not handle it anymore. She reached out and grabbed his wrist. He did not fight it. She brought the appendage level with her head so that the weapon he wielded was once more pressed against her face. Her hands no longer trembled. Her lips no longer quivered. No noises threaten to escape. Her voice no longer cracked. Tears no longer fought to escape from her eyes.

"Do it. Kill me." She said, "I see now that I was fighting for nothing. If this is what is seen as justice in this universe, than I refuse to be a part of it. Please, be merciful, and kill me. I have no more fight in me. _I have nothing to fight for_." Her pale fingers were coiled tightly around his wrist. Her green eyes dared him to do it. Her fingers pleaded with him to pull the trigger, and take her out of her misery so that she may join her fellow biotics.

But minutes passed and nothing happened. The two species stared each other down until the turian's arm began to shake. He shook her grip from his arm and shoved her back.

"I can't do it." He said softly, "Go. Leave." He nodded towards the door. She stared at him and he encouraged her with a gentle push at her shoulder. She did not know what to say. A single tremble ripped down her spine.

Not knowing what to do, she turned on her heel and shambled towards the door like a zombie. He might not have pulled the trigger, but with no purpose to drive her onward, he might as well have. She made her way to the doorway, fully expecting him to raise his weapon and take aim at her unsuspecting head. When she found herself at the doorway, she twisted her head over her shoulder to stare at him. He was rooted in the same spot, his eyes never leaving her.

"Look," she said, her voice soft once more, "I might not know about this artifact, or what a Prothean is, but I am truly, deeply, sorry to hear that your people on that colony died. No innocent being should be harmed, no matter the species." She turned her head back and stepped over the bodies that littered the doorway.

There was movement, and with a smile, she continued onwards, fully expecting him to carry out her earlier request.

Instead, his fingers found her bicep. She twisted in his grip to face him.

"I might regret this later, but, I want you to join me. I can't bring back your friends, but there's still time to make sure that those who wronged all of you biotics are brought to justice."

This time, it was her turn to stare blankly at him. When she made no sign that she was going to respond, he pressed, "We can take out any assault trooper we see, and perhaps rescue any remaining biotics. Deal?"

She raised her brow, "You want me to help you?"

"Yes."

"You want me to help you kill all of the guards?"

"Yes."

"And then?"

"You're free." The statement stunned her. She bit her lip and extracted herself from his grasp.

"I… What will I do? I… Look, I don't know where or… what or… who I was before I was here." She tapped her head with her index finger twice, "They take away all of that."

"What's your name? I can look you up on my omni-tool…" He said, withdrawing from her to bring up the orange device. Her teeth pulled on her bottom lip once more.

"I…" she sighed sadly, "I don't know what my name is. When we arrive, they give us a number. I am Subject Number Three." Her fingers pulled back the grey sleeve of her soiled shirt to reveal the numbers burned into the flesh of her milky bicep._ S 003_.

"Ah… Well, I see. I would say come with me afterwards but my superior will never allow a human aboard our ship, not with the war…" She was taken aback.

"War? What war?" She questioned. Though he was no human, she could tell that the raised facial plates were revealing his shock.

"Human, our races have been at war since 2157." He stated slowly, as though he could hardly believe he had to recite such a fact.

"Well...What year is it now?"

"It's 2174, it's been seventeen years. Human, do you have any idea what's happening outside of here?" His voice was hesitant, as though afraid of the answer. She shook her head.

"_Spirits_…" He whispered underneath his breath, "So, what do you say?"

Her eyes narrowed, "Is this supposed to make up for everything, because if you think-" He halted her attempted verbal assault by pressing his large hand against her mouth.

"No, what happened in the Hall was wrong, you've made me see that now, but give me a chance to make things right. Afterwards, somehow, someway, I'll come back and I'll help you find your identity. I'll help you find your family and your life before you were taken here."

She took a moment to mull over the proposition. Visions of returning to an older woman and man and being clasped tightly in their arms as they cried tears of joy rekindled something in her that she no longer thought existed. He released his grip from her face and she nodded.

His mandibles fluttered into what she could have sworn to be a lopsided grin. He extended a hand out to her, the gesture so startlingly human.

"The name's Garrus Vakarian and I look forward to taking down these sons of bitches with you."

She grasped his hand firmly and solidified the partnership.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Hello all! Wow, it's been a while since I've last posted. I hope you all had a great holiday season (if you celebrate the holidays: Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, &&ECT). I truly apologize for how long it took me to post a new story. Between ACT, SAT, final projects, and Midterms, it was very hard to write and plan a story. It was made even harder when I had to play the game of "how much information is too much information" when I started writing again. Can't let you guys know ALL of the story's mysteries just yet! ;-)

ALSO: I would like to say thank you to everyone that has kept up with my story! It really means a lot to me that you guys like it. Please, let me know of any comments, concerns or questions you have! I would love to read/answer!

UPDATE: A huge, enormous thank you to Mordinette for correcting my characterization and grammar issues! She is simply fantastic! For people who haven't checked Mordinette's page, I suggest you remedy that immediately because she has great stories!  
So, for those of you who read the original line, "Garrus... clapped his hands together..." I didn't mean it in a "cheerleader" sort of way! I meant it in a "brushing off the dust from his gloves" kinda way! But, now that I brought this up, ain't it kinda funny to imagine Garrus getting so excited that he starts bouncing about and clapping his hands?

* * *

"I don't understand," she grunted, tiptoeing about the fallen Cerberus guards that littered the floor from a fight that was lost well before she arrived, "if your… _Council_, was it? If the Council sent diplomats to the Alliance, why isn't the war over? It seems like the Alliance is only fighting because you attacked them, and you're only fighting them 'cause they're fighting back, there doesn't seem to be a reason for them to continue with the war…"

Her turian comrade chose to simply shrug his shoulders as his attention was focused on guiding them out of the maze of fallen men in the dark, using the flashlight mounted on his assault rifle as the only source of illumination. Shortly after their less-than-amicable introduction, the two left the office suites to continue Garrus's investigation for the location of the artifact. Following only minutes after that, the two were plunged into sudden darkness that was hastily explained by the facility's female Virtual Intelligence as "a power shortage on all levels above the ground floor". However, since the power went out, an emergency alarm had been loudly chirping, as though attempting to blow out her eardrums with the obnoxiously horrid blaring.

When they were safely across the sea of fallen humans, none of whom she had any mind to mourn the loss of, Garrus clicked off his flashlight and turned to her. "To answer your question, we're not quite sure what your species' agenda is. No line of communication has ever been established and every diplomat we sent into your cluster has fallen off the grid, they simply vanish into thin air." Her eyebrows knitted together, confused. She was new to the world outside of the facility and all these new concepts of _Council_,_ Relays_,_ Faster than Light Travel_,_ Prothean_ and _War_ sent her head spinning. She was reared in a lab, how was she to comprehend such startling concepts in the matter of minutes, especially given the circumstances? It seemed that the more answers Garrus provided, the more questions she had.

"When the war first broke out..." Garrus continued, he dropped his voice's volume momentarily while he used a mirror to determine whether or not anything lurked around the corner. When it seemed that the coast was clear, he twisted his head to face her, clicking the light back on. "Well... we thought your species might be too primitive to understand that we did not intend harm them with our diplomats...uhm… no offense". It was her turn to shrug apathetically before waving a hand across the grey clothing that hung loosely about her petite frame.

"The lot of them haven't done much for me…. Once we get through the end of this hallway, make a left and go down the staircase; the room we're looking for will be on the right…" she instructed in a whisper before rolling her bottom lip under her teeth anxiously as they approached their destination. Once they hit the staircase, the lights were turned on, and she was forced to remind herself that only the ground floor and subsequent levels above lost power. The place she was headed to was underground afterall...

Of all the places she thought to go once she was free of her shackles, _here_ would be the last one on the list. However, their mission required this, so, _here_ they were._ Here they were indeed_, squatting just outside the room now, concealed by a hallway wall. Her heart raced with trepidation.

The Testing Rooms. The Operation rooms. Hell. The Laboratory of the Cerberus Facility. All names for the same location. The same location, she decided, that would most likely hold the Prothean artifact that the turians were looking for.

Perched just outside the entrance to the doors she had dreaded so, were two guards whose vacant expressions were fixated on the ceiling, their boredom causing their eyes to glaze over. She recognized them. And why would she not? Though she had no watch to measure the time, it could not have been more than an hour or so since she had been dragged here from her cell, bound in her garrets, so that the lab technicians could draw blood samples. The same two oafs had been inside the lab when she arrived this morning.

From her position, the shrill buzzing of men's voices over the guards' radio could be heard, though the words were too muddled for her to comprehend. Their radios preoccupied them from noticing the approaching duo's footsteps. The two guards did not know that she sat just around the corner, prepared to pounce.

During a particularly vocal moment of comm chatter, Garrus nodded. She understood.

It was time for action.

The first bullet missed, taking the nearer of the two guards in his left shoulder. His guttural cry broke the annoying buzz of the comm traffic, as he twisted his neck to inspect the blackened hole that had just been drilled through his armor. Such an action was a mistake, as the second of the two bullets pierced right through his helmet and instantly incapacitated him. Before the second guard had a moment to let his reeling senses react, a tidal wave of azure biotic energy encompassed him, which sent him reeling into the adjacent wall, the racket from his armor crumpling against the wall was nearly deafening.

Slumped in a corner, the battered assault trooper's lids fluttered open, only to find a familiar fiery-haired biotic looming over him, her emerald eyes brimming with her hatred for him. Her lips were pulled into a feral sneer. About her petite frame, a cloud of biotic energy pulsed as she stared down at one of the many men who contributed to her agony in this horrid place.

"B-biotic? But, I thought you were all-"

"Dead?" she finished for him, her feral sneer morphing into a sadistic smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. The anxiety she had felt at the staircase dissipated as she stared at the silver, black and yellow plated man before her. In her anxiety's stead, fury was aroused, causing the biotic cloud about her to flare violently.

"I-They told me about you over the radio! You're the biotic that killed her guard?" he asked nervously, rubbing a piece of armor that adorned his neck. She smirked and withdrew the stolen pistol from her pocket, brandishing it proudly in his face. The very first time she held the weapon, she did so with trembling hands and a quivering lip, however, standing before the crippled man, a beast roared within and she now gripped the pistol as though she had been trained to do so her entire life. He swallowed and she made a point of not pocketing the weapon that she stole from his coworker's corpse.

"Yes," she replied unapologetically. "Now, we have some questions for you. If you play nicely, you won't end up with the same fate as that guy." Her head jerked back when she referred to the other guard that had been taken out by Garrus's bullets. He remained unmoving in a crumpled heap by the door, a crimson pool surrounding his form.

"W-we? Who's 'we'?" he stuttered.

She knew the exact moment when he found out who exactly the "we" was when his pupils dilated and his eyebrows raised dramatically. Garrus joined her side, assault rifle lingering threateningly in his claws-

"That would be me." The guard's eyes seemed to bug out of his skull.

"Now," she began, "where's the artifact?" She squatted down so that she could stare eye to eye with the man. His thick, brown caterpillar eyebrows stitched together.

"What artifact?" he responded, his voice laced with confusion.

"The Prothean artifact. The one that your people stole from my people by slaughtering an entire colony of unarmed civilians." Garrus growled indignantly.

"The one that caused his people to come crashing through the Main Hall and kill everything on sight." she stressed, never once taking her eyes off of his. Anger contorted his features and he shoved a gloved hand into her face.

"Ya' crazy? I don't get paid to deal with that kinda shit. My job's to watch you freaks and make sure ya don't blow up the whole damn place."

""I can see you did a fine job making sure that didn't happen," Garrus replied dryly.

"Oh, go to hell," the guard snapped. "Listen, like I said, I don't get paid to play Einstein with the egg-heads in the lab. I don't know what they have in there or what they do. If they call me into a room, it's to restrain someone."

"So, wait… just you wait a minute." she began slowly. "Guards are never stationed to stand _outside_ the Lab. Their job is to keep biotics _in _not to keep people _out_…. So, either you're protecting something and making sure no one comes in…. or there's an experiment gone awry that you're making sure doesn't leave the Labs…" Garrus's head snapped towards her, his mandibles flickering into what she assumed to be an impressed smile. She managed to crack the guard, all that was left was for him to tell her what wing the artifact was located in.

"I ain't saying nothin'. If you two wanna go in the Labs, be my guest. Those things'll tear you apart before my squad gets here."

"Your squad?" she questioned incredulously. It was then that the guard smiled and cocked his head to the side, the red light of his radio blinking brightly where he had been rubbing his neck. He had the entire conversation on his radio! The other Cerberus guards would know their coordinates by now.

"_Shit_! We need to go! Garrus, open the Lab door! We need to get the _hell_ out of here!" she shrieked. Garrus's eyes widened and he hastened towards the door, whipping his omni-tool out so that he could decrypt the locks. Meanwhile, she stood before the guard, who had begun to laugh maniacally. Her heartbeat began to thump in her ears and adrenaline pulsed through her veins like shards of glass. The twist in events sent her into a paralyzed stupor.

"Don't know why they continued this circus act for eleven years." He scoffed, still curled up against the corner she had thrown him against, "They shoulda' just killed you animals when they had a chance."

Her eyes narrowed. Her biotics flared back to life and suddenly, the man was strewn over Garrus's head and headlong into the opposite wall. She heard a sickening _crack_ as his unprotected skull collided with the metal wall. Her chest heaved with emotion and everything in view went red. His body fell to the ground with a loud crash. She closed her eyes. She attempted to placate her volatile emotions and her even more volatile biotics.

She opened her eyes when she felt a claw on her shoulder. It was Garrus. Behind him, the doors of the laboratory were open. Staring over his shoulder, a strange emotion overwhelmed her. Years of enthrallment were spent through those doors, strapped to a gurney while men, whose faces were shielded by medical masks, held scalpels and needles against her abdomen and arms. Now, she was entering those doors for the last time as a free woman, something that could not be said for hundreds of others who had entered the lab and never left. Her eyes drifted back to Garrus, who continued to squeeze her shoulder.

"Hey," Garrus said tenderly, "We need to go. Now. Before more _friends_ arrive." She nodded and shook herself from her reverie. She went ahead of him through the doors and he shut them, ensuring that he re-encrypted the lock. Inside the lab's entrance, she stared about the sterile office while Garrus fiddled with the locks. Studying the suite was an action she had been incapable of doing the countless other times she had been dragged inside of here. Whenever she was brought into the Labs, she was swept hastily into either the operating room or into Evaluation where they analyzed and recorded her biotics, pain threshold and other various skills.

The room was stark white, the desks that were pressed against the wall were covered in papers. She leaned over to inspect the documents, but, like the words that were on the computer screen before she had Garrus's gun to her head, they did not make any sense to her. With little wonder. There was no time to learn how to read when you spent half your time locked up in a dark cell and the other half in a lab.

She turned on her heel to find Garrus shoving one of the many desks within the room against the doors, subsequently scattering the papers and sending them fluttering across the room gracefully. He set a few explosives down on the upturned desk and hooked them up to the door strategically, tinkering with the foreign objects until an intricate design was engendered. With a satisfied flutter of his mandibles, he clapped his hands together and admired his handiwork.

"That should do the trick," He announced proudly.

"Hey," She called out, "Can your visor change human letters into your own language so that you can read?" He made his way to the desk and stared down at the papers before her. He leafed through a couple of pages, his eyes ferociously scanning several documents.

"Yeah, why?" He asked, his fingers continuing to flip through the dozens upon dozens of neatly stacked documents.

"I know that this isn't the best time to be curious, but… is there anything… about… me? Who I am… maybe where I came from… what exactly they did in their experiments? What my name is?" she asked softly. With a blush blooming across her cheeks, she explained sheepishly, "I… can't read." He shook his head and made a low noise in his throat.

"There's nothing about you, the papers are primarily about a process called "indoctrination"... I've never heard of it, have you?" She pursed her lips to the side and shook her head, feeling disappointed, "From what I can read… they're not too sure either… Hey! Look, an audio log!" Garrus waved his omni-tool, procuring the image of a sandy-haired scientist to hover above a yellow data pad screen. She leaned her hip against the desk and listened.

"Log entry I-7-0-2: We have randomly chosen multiple biotically-equipped and normal, non-biotic subjects to be exposed to the artifact, per request of the Illusive Man. Amongst both of the experimental groups, we have noticed rapid mental deterioration and peculiar physiological changes. A strange phenomena occurs in the eyes of the subjects. The pupils constrict until they're completely replaced with a glowing iris that possesses two orbs on the lower portion of the pupil. We will continue to investigate, while detaining experimental groups in reinforced cells here in the labs… They appear to be too aggressive to return back to the remainder of the subject population." The image blinked, but when the picture returned, a completely different man appeared.

"Log entry I-7-0-3: Dr. Bryiar has been sent home early due to complaints of hallucinations, I have been chosen to oversee his research. With that said, biotics seem to have a slight immunity to effects of indoctrination, but we are now starting to witness those with biotic abilities sucuumbing to the effects after approximately two weeks of resistance. Subjects complain of a headache, paranoia, and a constant ringing in their ears. While being interviewed, one non-biotic appeared to be having a rather grandeur delusion, claiming that a race of sapient machine gods were going to kill everything in the galaxy. I will investigate more tomorrow…" The image blinked off and on once more, the same scientist logging back in, yet there was a slight alteration to his appearance. Brown hair was pointed haphazardly and large bags settled beneath tired brown eyes.

"Log entry A… No… I- 7-0-2… or perhaps this is Log I-7-0-3? It has been... two and a half weeks since my previous log. Non-biotic patients have either died or become mindless husks. Physical deterioration at 100%, skin has been replaced by a solid metal framework. Aggression has increased by over 200%, with all the "husks" attempting to kill "non-husks". I am now planning to keep all husks separated from one another…. will… monitor aggression... Personal interest in the artifact found on a turian colony has increased. I wish to know its secrets and have even fired the remainder of my research team as to get closer to it. They called me crazy... but they don't know... not a single one can fathom the genius I possess... I know that they were all just jealous of my work- my progress with the experimental group... I occasionally hear it whispering to me… I can… feel it in my head, like, like-like an itch I can't scratch. I lashed out at one of the guards last night- not my fault- the fool kept pestering me… needed key to get into the room to visit the artifact anyway… I have... been finding myself periodically waking up in the room with the artifact… it's so… so beautiful…" The unnamed scientist logged out once more, only to reappear an instant later. The image hovering above the data pad appeared to be unshaven and his hair was a complete, matted mess. His skin was far more sallow and the bags beneath his dark brown eyes worsened.

"Today, I sat with the artifact, stroking his beautiful surface. Biotic S-0-0-3 came in for routine blood samples. The artifact felt her presence. Artifact has expressed interest in S-0-0-3, but I told him- told him that she was Illusive Man's and that h-he p-plans to make her a super soldier. Artifact told me that he can make her a super soldier bett-better than Illusive Man could. I got angry! I want to be the artifact's chosen one! So, I told him to make me perfect. The artifact is reluctant…. b-b-but I can be perfect t-too! I'll show him. S-She is nothing compared to... compared to my genius!" The image disappeared only to come back suddenly, his appearance unchanged, "Heard explosion just now! All biotics dead. Artifact is mad! He didn't get a chance to make them perfect! Artifact told me to release his thralls. Will release husks now. He says that they have come to hurt him! I- I mustn't allow that to happen! Why would the artifact lie to me?" His image faded and did not return.

While speaking his final sentence, she could have sworn that she saw the scientist's eyes glowed a vibrant, unnatural blue.

The data pad's yellow screen dimmed and the duo stared awkwardly at the dark screen in silence. The two comrades craned their necks to look at one another, apparently neither one knew what to say to the other.

"What the hell is going on here?" She sputtered when she finally found her voice.

"Hey, remember when the guard said "those things that'll rip us apart"... you don't think…?" Garrus began slowly. She bit her lip once more.

"Oh, son of a bitch… " she murmured. She checked the stolen pistol to ensure that the heat clip was fully prepared to pump some monster's body full of lead.

"Now that we know where the artifact is, I'm starting to think that we don't want this on our ship… at all. I doubt this is a Prothean artifact. I for one have never heard of any sort of Prothean device having... such an effect on organics," Garrus said hesitantly. "I'm gonna try to contact my squad…. Hold on." He raised his hand to turn on his radio. After a brief pause, he sighed. "I can't even get static, damn…."

"Well, we're here and out there is a squad just waiting to strike us down. We might as well look for something to bring back to your people… starting with this," she said, pocketing the data pad. Garrus nodded before reaching over his shoulder and retrieving his assault rifle. He ejected the used thermal clip and slapped in a new cartridge.

"Time to meet the boogeyman," he proclaimed apprehensively. She held the pistol in one hand and with the other, erected a biotic shield around them once more. She was unsure what the fiends were capable of, if they even shot bullets, but she would rather be safe than sorry.

They proceeded onwards. They passed the room she had her blood drawn in, and she fought the urge to kick down the door and see if any of her records remained there. She knew that she should be more focused on the welfare of her companion and herself, but the urge to find out who she is was overbearing. Now that she was free, she needed a name, at the very least. She simply refused to go about having people call her Subject Zero Zero Three.

When they passed an observation room, she gasped. Through the glass, she could peer into the room and see what she could only assume to be the "husk" creature that the man in the data diary had blabbered about. Fortunately for the duo, the crazed man seemed to either not have enough time to unlock this door, or simply overlooked doing so. The abomination was effectively caged in the otherwise empty cell.

Human skin receded from what once was a skull with dried, bloody flakes. What was once a skull made out of bone was now a metallic plate, equipped with vibrant, glowing eyes. Its head laid cocked to the side, thick, broad wires originating at his clavicles hooked into its gaping open mouth as it emitted a ferocious snarl accompanied with spittle that sprayed the window. Upon seeing them, it charged the glass, as though hoping to smash right through it. When it collided with the glass, she nearly jumped ten feet into the air while suppressing a scream as her hands reached out to grasp the turian's bicep.

It pressed itself against the glass as it rabidly banged its head against the glass, headbutting it while a shrill shriek came spewing from its lips, a fine film of acidic green fluid coating the glass. While her heart beat slowed, Garrus's arm lifted out of her grip to cup her against his chest, his own fright causing him to reciprocate her movements. When she was ready, she extracted herself from his grip and turned to face the terrifying fiend.

She touched the glass, feeling every beat of its head against the -thankfully- impenetrable glass. Staring at the eerie eyes, she could hardly believe that this was once human. She could hardly believe that if she was part of that unfortunate "experiment group", that she would be one these…. things. Despite knowing that she would later regret what she did, her eyes slid down from the crazed eyes, past its wired covered chest and landed on its arms. Like its cranium, the beast's arm had organic flesh being stripped from an inorganic body. On what remained of its bicep's flesh, an identification brand: _S395._ Not only had this_ thing_ once been a fellow biotic, but someone she had bonded with. Someone that she assumed had been killed during an experiment. As the horrid brute continued to pound its head against the unyielding glass, she realized that _S395 _would have been better off dead.

She turned away.

She looked over her shoulder at Garrus who had been watching her the entire time. She glanced up at the strange visor that concealed one of his icy blue eyes. She then peered at the beak-like plate that appeared to function as his lip that covered a straight row of razor sharp teeth that could be seen from in between his two mandibles. As the two stared at each other, his mandibles fluttered gingerly. She continued to gawk at his predator-like features and came to acknowledge that despite his avian appearance, he was the most gentle being she had ever encountered- including her fellow biotics. She thought of his act of mercy, his insistence on their alliance and how decently he had been treating her this entire time, despite their races' conflicts. When they first formed their truce, she had every intention of giving him the cold shoulder to ensure that no relationship was established, but slowly, he chipped piece by piece that block of ice... Now... well, now she would be damned if she did not trust this alien at her six.

A particularly violent banging of the husk brought them down to earth. She shook her head and he coughed awkwardly into his hand.

"We gotta stay vigilant. I say we get what we need, and then get the hell outta Dodge... Let's go," she ordered abruptly.

Garrus nodded. He understood, no more words needed to pass between the two of them.


End file.
